Broken Reprise
by SnoOza
Summary: Hermione knew something was amiss when an inexplicably mercurial Malfoy tried to dissuade them from working in Honeydukes, but she didn’t bargain for how things would turn out working alone with her mysterious arch-nemesis. DracoHermione.
1. Whispers of Doubt

**Title**: Broken Reprise 

**Rating**: PG-13

**Category**: Romance, Drama

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

**Pairings**: Draco/Hermione

**Summary**: Hermione knew something was amiss when an inexplicably mercurial Malfoy tried to dissuade them from working in Honeydukes, but she didn't bargain for how things would turn out working alone with her mysterious arch-nemesis. D/Hr.

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and etc belongs to JKR.

**Author's Notes**: Originally posted up on schnoogle.com under a different title, but reverted to fanfiction.net as I was more used to the format. Thanks to my betas Mich, TYX and Charlene for all the horror I put them through. This chapter especially is dedicated to my chief beta Mich for motivating me to write and listening to my many rambles on plot developments and characters. Thanks mich! :D

**Chapter 1**  
Whispers of Doubt

_You don't see the tears my heart cries  
Torn apart by these iridescent white lies  
Please don't tell me anymore  
I don't want to remember before_

  


* * *

  
_The chilling mist swirled sedately, even morosely around the street, embracing the hollow buildings with clammy grey tendrils, winding its dissembling fingers lovingly around bared ankles. Harry Potter padded anxiously down the cobbled road, ignoring the shockwave of pain that snaked up his unshod feet every time they hit the cold ground._

_He moved jerkily, at times lumbering frantically through the smoky blur, then stopping just as suddenly as he waved his arms uselessly about, as if he thought he could dispel the encroaching monochrome. But all the time his head was craned forward at a painful angle as his eyes darted all over the place, from one eddying grey to another, blinking away in irritation the tears of strain. _

_A vague insistency flitted around his brain, whisperings that threatened to halt him in his tracks. Since when had Hogsmeade experienced fog? How could a bustling wizard town be so eerily absent of any form of life? Still, pulled by a will alien to his own, yet not entirely hostile, Harry continued his solitary passage down the main street of Hogsmeade._

_He was searchingwhat for? Searchingit was something important, direly important, but why couldn't he remember? Harry shook his head as if his thoughts would somehow fall out of his frozen ears and into his equally numb palm, but still all he knew was that if he had to find ithe just had to_

_Harry's eyes snapped opened so suddenly a stinging pain exploded behind his cornea and he pressed the palms of his hand into his closed eyes till white stars burst against the black backdrop of his eyelids._

_His heart was still racing when he finally took his hands away from his eyes, jerking erratically against his ribcage as if he had really had been wandering around Hogsmeade. What did it all mean?_

  
This year's decorations were less elaborate than usual. The usual mistletoe and holly festooned the walls of the Great Hall, lightening the gloomy obsidian, but they were hung more haphazardly than usual. Furthermore, with Hagrid disappearing constantly ever since the start of the sixth year, there was only a solitary Christmas tree towering dismally beside the High Table, the lighted candles swaying gloomily on drooping branches. The few students there, however, were just as boisterous as usual, maybe more, with the prospect of two glorious snow-filled and school-free weeks. 

"I still don't see why we can't go to Northern Ireland," Hermione groused, buttering her toast with a deft hand. "It would have been such an enriching experience. Professor McGonagall will be giving the students a personal tour of that famous haunted castle in Belfast. I've read all about it in _A Comprehensive History of_-"

"Hermione!" Ron said in exasperation. "How many times are you going to rant on about the bloody Ireland trip?"

"Well, I was just _talking_, that's all," Hermione said huffily. "No need to get so riled up!"

"But this must be the fiftieth time-"

Harry grinned as he bit into his buttered toast, letting the salty tang simmer on the tip of his tongue. At least some things were still the same, he thought with a tinge of bitterness he tried to ignore, gazing around the Great Hall, now a lot emptier with most of the students home for the Christmas Break and the other 6th years on their way to Ireland. 

"I was just _saying_ what we could have learnt if we had gone on the trip," Hermione said primly, her knife flying over her toast so vigorously the bread was taking on an unnaturally squished look.

"Oh I'm _sure_!" Ron snapped. "If you want to go so much, why don't you just bloody leave? I'm sure you can still catch them at the station, they only left half an hour ago!"

"I'm not saying -" Hermione began angrily, but Ron interjected quickly.

"I, for one, know where my priorities lie! You know full well Harry's uncle and aunt will never allow Harry to go. Now if Sirius was"

Ron trailed off suddenly, his face and Hermione's twin mirrors of horror. They sneaked silent peeks at Harry, who was staring determinedly at his toast, wishing one of them would speak. The oppressive silence was starting to smother him.

So, if Sirius was here, it would have been different, right? Harry thought with a kind of blind rage, his stomach churning in electric waves of emotion. Oh, so many things would have been different. A muscle twitched in his jaw as pain unfurled within him like an emerging moth. Thank you so much Sirius. You wanted to have your fun, didn't you? Well, you've had it, and for that _I_ have to pay?

"Erm, Harry?" Hermione squeaked timidly from opposite him.

"I'm really sorry, Harry," Ron said in an anguished voice. "I didn't think. I mean, it wasI just feel so _stupid_!" Ron burst out.

With an effort Harry dragged his eyes off the fascinating slice of bread in front of him, the knot in his chest loosening slightly at the crumpled look on Ron's face.

"It's okay," he muttered, managing a tiny grin.

Harry could almost hear the tension in the air shatter and dissolve into the dusky red dawn peeking in through the enchanted ceiling.

"So, shall we go fill in our choice for the Career Commitment Course now?" Hermione's voice was suspiciously exuberant. "They'll be removing the form by the end of breakfast!"

"Yeah, okay," Harry said, mildly surprised to find his voice sounding normal. He was getting better at hiding his emotions. "We're applying for Honeydukes, right?"

"Yup," Hermione smiled at him, looking relieved to see Harry get back on his feet so quickly. Harry felt a twinge of quilt as he attempted to squash all sour thoughts into oblivion. "It's offering three places, one for each of us."

"And free food!" Ron said gleefully, downing the last of his orange juice in one gulp.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at Harry, who felt a reluctant grin tug at the sides of his mouth. He swung himself off the bench and started up the Great Hall, heading to the communal notice board in at the Entrance Hall.

Once Harry was out of earshot, Hermione leaned across the table and pulled the sleeve of Ron's cloak. Accustomed to this, Ron turned reflexively, one leg over the bench, worry shrouding his eyes.

"He's not getting any better," Ron whispered, casting a glance around the Gryffindor Table, which seemed empty with most of the younger students occupying seats nearer the entrance of the Great Hall.

"I know," Hermione replied, her voice so low Ron had to lean forward to distinguish it from the bustle of the lower-years. "I understand that Sirius is very dear to Harry, but he shouldn't bottle it all up! He never used to, remember? Whenever he was mad last year, he-"

"He'd just blow up, yeah," Ron finished. "Rather hard to forget that."

"Yes, but now he tries to hide all the pain. It's tearing him up inside."

"Still, what-"

"What are you guys doing standing back there?"

Ron started so suddenly he tripped over the heavy oak bench, balanced precariously for one wild second, arms flapping vigorously to maintain his unbalanced centre of gravity. Alas, physics was against him that day, and he slammed into the Ravenclaw Table behind him, to much ejaculation from some flabbergasted second-years. 

"Ron's cloak got caught in a chink on the seat," Hermione called back towards Harry, wearing a suitably exasperated expression on her face. Harry nodded sagely, trying uselessly to suppress a grin.

"Why must you always use me?" Ron hissed furiously, glaring alternately at Harry and Hermione, his face deepening to beetroot as he felt inquisitive eyes on him.

"Because that's the kind of stuff you do," Hermione murmured impassively, turning to hurry after Harry. Scowling, Ron extricated himself from the Ravenclaw Table and strode after Harry and Hermione.

In the Entrance Hall, Harry headed towards the notice board, where a greyish white parchment took up half the board, an elaborately cursive 'Career Commitment' adorning the notice in bold black ink, followed by a list of the participating Hogsmeade outlets in plum purple. Harry fancied he could even detect a whiff of the bitter scent lingering on the thickly penned letters. An ash mottled quill hovered gently beside it, the Hogwarts emblem stamped in black on one side.

"Well, go on then," Ron snapped, having just stomped up to where Harry and Hermione were contemplating the notice. He seized the levitating quill slightly harder than was absolutely necessary and thrust it at Harry. His ears were still a suspiciously dark pink.

Biting his lip to keep back an impetuous snicker, Harry took the quill and placed its nib under the title of Honeydukes, glancing idly at the other names already on the notice. He recognised Neville's uneven wording under Three Broomsticks, and wondered briefly whether it would be safe to visit the place while Neville was serving.

"Dear, dear," a voice drawled lazily from behind Harry. He stiffened reflexively, his fingers clamping down onto the quill as he recognised the voice. Thought it had been a while since the owner last bothered him, old habits still died hard, and he turned around rather woodenly. He noticed with an undercurrent of amusement Ron and Hermione looked equally tense. It almost felt like old times.

Facing them was Draco Malfoy, a bored expression on his snobbish face. "My goodness, first Weasley, then Potter. You do realise that Hogwarts is one of the only magical institutes in this region that offers absolutely free education with no strings attached, and here you are, trying to destroy school property." He looked pointedly at Harry's right hand, still clenching the quill tightly.

Harry released his death grip immediately, feeling somewhat guilty as he watched the quill float up and down in a woebegone manner, its feathers crushed and bent out of shape, the Hogwarts logo now unnaturally distorted.

"What's the problem?" Hermione asked brusquely. Harry looked at her, surprised. Hermione hardly ever initiated any fights. He saw her sneak a sideways glance at Ron, whose eyes widened.

"Yeah, stop bothering us," Ron said threateningly, moving slightly towards Malfoy. Harry frowned, but before he could ponder the peculiarity of Ron and Hermione's actions, Hermione was speaking again. "You haven't spoken to us since the start of the year, why start now?" 

"And it was such a delightful habit, so why don't you keep it up?" Ron added hopefully.

Malfoy smiled condescendingly at Ron, whose ears darkened again. "What do you mean haven't talked to me? What about prefect meetings?" he spoke in an infuriatingly injured manner.

"But you haven't talked to - I mean, other than that," Hermione amended quickly.

A sudden silver flickered in Malfoy's dull grey eyes. "Indeed?" he murmured in Hermione's direction, but appeared distracted. "Just pointing out your logical fallacy. Making those sorts of hasty generalisations in the exams will cost you precious points. Say, Potter -"

  
"Go _away_," Ron and Hermione snarled together. They had moved so they were directly in front of Harry, blocking him so that all he could see was the tip of Malfoy's silvery blond hair. He had the distinct impression he was the only one clueless about the current situation.  
"I'm afraid I can't," Malfoy said silkily. He indicated the notice with a curt nod of his head. "I'm here to sign up for Honeydukes." 

Malfoy ignored Harry, Ron and Hermione's starts of surprise. "So are you three, I believe?" he continued in a conversational tone. "I wouldn't recommend it, since one of you won't get in. I don't want to pour cold water, but I'm betting on either Potter or Weasley."

"What makes you say that?" Ron said angrily, his fists balled so tightly his knuckles were an unnatural white.

"Well, they do select candidates based on their grades," Malfoy said with unperturbed calm. "Of course, you're not supposed to know that, but I thought rather than let the wonder trio be split up, I should let you have the chance to choose again."

"And how would you know?" Hermione asked, looking extremely dubious.

"Because I recommended the idea of Career Commitment to Dumbledore. After all, there's only so many times one can go to Ireland," Draco replied without missing a beat.

"Plus money's rather tight, nowadays, isn't it? With your father in Azkaban and all?" Hermione said shrewdly. "I'm surprised the Aurors didn't seize all your family's assets."

A sliver of emotion flashed across Malfoy's eyes, then darkened to an almost abysmal monochrome.

"Sirius Black," Malfoy rapped out, every syllable sharp across Harry's ears, all trace of drawl gone. Hermione made as if to say something, but Malfoy had already spoken.

"He died because he was too full of himself, didn't he?"

It was fortunate that Ron and Hermione were in the way, or it was unlikely Malfoy would have survived for Christmas. For Harry had charged at Malfoy, his eyes dilated to a bright, unseeing emerald, unrestrained rage licking the tips of his iris.

It took the combined efforts of both Ron and Hermione just to prevent Harry from just moving forwards. "TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID!" he bellowed, his body pulsing with electric fury. A rushing buzz pounded in his head as he clawed savagely at the air, so intent on scratching out Malfoy's face he didn't notice someone striding purposefully towards them from the Great Hall. Just a few more inchesjust a bit more and he'd make sure Malfoy would never again be able to smirk in that supremely unconcerned manner. 

How dare he say such things about Sirius? Blaspheme his name after he was gone? How dared he? He had no right to condemn Sirius. Especially since he was correct

"Harry! Harry, calm down!" Hermione yelled desperately, tugging futilely at Harry's arm. She looked around desperately, then saw something which could only make their day worse. "Harry! Snape's _coming_!" she hissed right in Harry's ear.

Who cared? What did anything matter except ripping off Malfoy's foul, glib mouth? Did he have any right? He didn't know anything about Harry's suffering. I'll make him know, Harry thought brutally, I'll teach him pain.

"Harry, Snape's coming!"

Snape? To hell with Snape! SnapeHis mind was suddenly numbly blank, a sneering voice echoing through every last vestige of his sanity. Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves

All emotion snapped out of him and a sudden light-headed lethargy washed over him. His arms dropped limply to his side and his body relaxed so abruptly that caught by surprise, Ron and Hermione dragged Harry backwards and all three of them crashed into the wall. Harry felt his head connect dully with the notice board behind him, but the throbbing ache that snaked through his head felt oddly distant. He felt his feet give way and slid down the length of the wall till he hit the ground, and the accompanying thumps from either side told him Ron and Hermione were also going to have sore rumps that day. So that was why they had been acting so unusual, a little voice whispered from beneath the blanketing folds of ennui. They were trying to protect me. Because I can't control myself. Because I wear my -

"What's going on here?" a voice sneered.

Hermione, who had been nursing a smashed elbow, looked up to see Professor Snape glaring down at them over a bulbous, hooked nose, and jumped up immediately. "I can explain, Professor," she said quickly, wishing she could punch the blandly polite expression off Malfoy's face.

"It's my fault, professor," Harry said tiredly. He felt vaguely giddy, yet a strange sense of peace seemed to be perforating him. So this is what it's like when you don't feel anything, Harry thought. He could lap in this comfortable apathy forever.

Ron and Hermione looked shocked, and Snape looked faintly disoriented. Even Malfoy's face slackened for a fraction of a second.

"Pardon?" Snape finally said. Possibly he had never heard Harry use such docile tones in speaking to him before. Indeed, never.

"It's my fault," Harry repeated. "I got upset with Malfoy."

"YouWell, ten points from Gryffindor," Snape's voice had resumed its usual brisk tones. "Andkeep up that sort of behaviour. If you want to stay safe." He stalked off, cloak blowing out from behind him.

For one taut moment, everyone just stared at Harry, who was gazing absently at the rippling fabric of Snape's cloak, his eyebrows slightly creased.

Er, Harry, are you okay?" Ron ventured at last. He was sitting on the floor with one leg drawn awkwardly up to his chest, and he was massaging his shoulder where he had crashed it against the notice board.

"Yeah, don't worry about me," Harry said with an effort at injecting some sort of emotion into his voice. He tried to quirk his face into a smile, but from the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces, he suspected he must have only succeeded in making himself look constipated. "Really, I'm fine," he repeated. Ron looked at him uncertainly.

Hermione stooped down in front of Harry and held out her hand. Harry looked up in surprise to see her smiling at him, her chocolate brown eyes misted with tenderness. "Come on, let's go back to the common room."

All his lethargy was up-surged with an onrush of restrained emotions, and he took her outstretched hand tentatively, willing himself not to throw his arms around her and cry out all twisting, throbbing pain. With an almighty tug Hermione pulled Harry off the floor, propelling him towards the stairs.

"Ron," she said briskly. "Fill in our names."

"'kay," Ron said, seizing the quill.

"You're still choosing Honeydukes?" Malfoy said sharply. He had been observing them silently for the past minute. "Even after knowing one of you won't get in?"

Hermione stopped on the bottom flight of the stairs, and turning back to Malfoy, said very clearly, "I don't believe you."

Something stirred briefly behind Malfoy's eyes, but when Hermione looked again bland silver pools stared back at her, its very immobility eerie.

He cocked his head to one side, and Hermione faltered slightly, feeling the steel grey bore into her, feeling a slight twinge ofdespair?

"II don't believe you'd do anything for anyone else's benefit!" Hermione's eyes flashed hazel with defiance.

Malfoy didn't move.

"Done!" Ron threw the quill down, and with a triumphant glare at Malfoy, took off after Harry and Hermione.

"What do you think Malfoy's up to?" Ron murmured, once they had turned into a hallway and were well out of his earshot. "Do you think he really initiated the Career Commitment?"

"I have no idea," Hermione replied, her eyebrows furrowed. She shivered slightly, remembering the unnatural sensation she had felt when he had stared at her. "But I didn't like the way he was manipulating us. I'm pretty sure he didn't want us in Honeydukes."

"But why not?" Ron asked "It's strange, Malfoy's been acting very unlike himself since the beginning of this year."

"I know. Even Crabbe and Goyle have been unusually subdued. I wonder why they didn't stay behind for Work Experience with Malfoy?"

"Huh. Maybe having their fathers in Azkaban is affecting them."

"Maybe" Hermione said doubtfully. "Have you ever wondered how come they're all still in Azkaban after so long? You'd think that with the Dementors on Voldemort's side (Ron flinched, then tried to act like he just had a crick in the neck) they'd break out of there in no time"

"Do you think maybe they're just trying not to draw attention to themselves?"

"Possibly" Hermione murmured. "But whatever Malfoy's up to, I don't like it."

Harry hardly listened to their conversation as he trudged along mechanically beside them, thoughts swirling around in his brain with a dull persistence, mismatched sentences singing their cavorting lullaby in his ear.

_Keep up that behaviourif you want to keep safebecause he was too full of himselffools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves..._

We're all fools, aren't we? Harry thought bitterly.

  
Back in the Entrance Hall, Draco was staring at Ron's untidy scrawl, an almost imperceptible crease between his eyebrows. Then, as though suddenly galvanised, he took the quill from where it was floating on its side when Ron had thrown it down, and added his name in neat cursive under 'Ron Weasley'. Replacing the quill carefully in an unnecessarily vertical position, Draco strolled off.

Only the feathers of the quill, looking yet more dolefully crumpled than ever, told the lie to his emotions.

  


* * *

**Author's Notes**: Hopefully the next chapter will go up within two weeks, but till then comments and criticisms are very much appreciated.  


**&SnoOza**

  



	2. Of Frilled Balaclavas and other Frivolit...

**Title:** Broken Reprise 

**Rating:** PG-13

**Category:** Romance, Drama

**Characters:** Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

**Pairings:** Draco/Hermione

**Summary:** Hermione knew something was amiss when an inexplicably mercurial Malfoy tried to dissuade them from working in Honeydukes, but she didn't bargain for how things would turn out working alone with her mysterious arch-nemesis. D/Hr.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and etc belongs to JKR.

**Author's Notes:** This chapter is dedicated to Yingx, who's a splendid beta and a great listener (mostly). :)

**Chapter 2**  
Of Frilled Balaclavas and other Frivolities

_Balaclava [n]: A warm woollen hood covering the head and neck, worn especially by mountain climbers and skiers._

* * *

It was one o'clock, and the few other students still in Hogwarts had already finished their lunch and were filtering gradually out of the Great Hall. However, the nine sixth-years who had forgone Ireland for toiling unpaid in Hogsmeade milled around the empty High Table, waiting for Dumbledore. The headmaster, who had not been seen for the whole morning, was supposed to meet them in the Great Hall to give them the results of their selection. 

"D'you think Malfoy really chose Honeydukes?" Ron asked Harry and Hermione as they hovered at one edge of the High Table.

"I wouldn't know," Hermione said pensively. "I really wish I knew what he was trying to do."

Harry shrugged. He had revived his former spirit dramatically over a game of Quidditch, in which he had thrown himself into so vigorously Ron had admitted in a whisper to Hermione that he had dodged the last Quaffle on purpose in case it caused him the hospital wing. "I sure hope he doesn't get in, whatever it is. I don't think I could bear the strain of not punching his sneering face into the next millennium and beyond."

"I'm already having trouble doing that," Ron muttered, glancing over at the other end of the High Table where Malfoy was talking to Terry Boot. His eyes narrowed. "Why do people even bother giving him the time of day? Don't they remember what he was like the past five years?"

"Did you say something about Malfoy?" Padma Patil had wandered over, sleek black hair swinging jauntily in a high ponytail. Harry was suddenly reminded of someone else.

"Yeah," Ron said darkly. "That git tried to bother Harry again this morning."

"Really?" Padma looked surprised. "But he's been acting really civil this year. Almostfriendly, in fact."

Ron looked enraged. "Padma! Have you forgotten how absolutely horrible he's been for five whole years?"

"Wellmaybe he's redeemed," Padma suggested hopefully.

Ron snorted without restraint, and behind him Susan Bones jumped and looked around her in alarm. Harry and Hermione exchanged amused glances. "Please, Padma! Malfoy's just a bloody git."

"Right, right," Padma said in a placating voice, but she didn't look convinced. She glanced over at Draco, and Hermione recognised with a start the overly bright look in Padma's eyes. She _liked_ Malfoy! _The_ Draco Malfoy? And she was pretty too. She should be able to get anyone she wanted. Of course, Malfoy wasn't that bad-looking, Hermione realised with a start, looking over at him again. She'd never seen him as more than a pale, snarling, ferrety character whose only goal in like was to make _their_ life miserable. However, seeing him from Padma's point of view, without the usual sneer contorting his face, the straight, aristocratic arches of his face were in more prominence, and she conceded that he actually looked rather mature and elegant.

Still, looks weren't everything.

"Which job did you apply for?" Harry was asking Padma.

"The Three Broomsticks," Padma said grouchily. "_I_ wanted to go to Northern Ireland, but my parents said they couldn't afford to send both of us. So Parvati got to go because she was two minutes older than me. _Two_ minutes!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded sympathetically as Padma ranted on lugubriously, working to keep their faces from lapsing into boredom. Even so, Hermione couldn't keep her mind from wandering. Where was Dumbledore? He hadn't been in the Great Hall for breakfast either. She sighed. Everything had been so messy this year with the news that Voldemort was back out in the open.

Hagrid had relinquished his position as teacher for Care of Magical Creatures, which Professor Grubbly-Plank had been happy to take up again. Now he spent most of his time away on 'top-secret missions' for the Order, he told them gruffly when quizzed, or in the Forbidden Forest, improving sibling relationships while trying to ward off the increasingly hostile centaurs. Dumbledore had been pestered by what seemed the entire wizarding community ever since his return to Hogwarts, and appeared more haggard and wizened then ever, frequently not turning up for meals with the rest of the school. He still had to direct the Order, which was kept unknown from the Ministry for security reasons. Even Snape and Professor McGonagall seemed tired and harassed, though neither had lost their vigour in drilling the students, or in Snape's case, torturing them.

"don't you agree?" Padma's plaintive voice whined distantly in Hermione's head.

"Er, yeah, yeah," Hermione guessed randomly, trying to sound supportive of whatever Padma had been talking about.

Harry took his cue from Hermione and nodded his head vigorously. Ron, however, was gazing cross-eyed at the entrance of the Great Hall, and did not even notice the pause in Padma's stream of words.

Just then footsteps were heard and Dumbledore entered the Great Hall. His midnight blue robes looked more faded and limp than usual, but his footsteps were still firm and brisk, and when he looked up at them his eyes twinkled familiarly under his half-moon spectacles. Clopping along beside him, a glum look on his round face, was -

"Neville!" Ron said in surprised, having snapped back to attention when Dumbledore entered. "What's he doing with Dumbledore?"

"Has he been with him the whole morning?" Harry wondered. "No wonder I didn't see him at the table for breakfast."

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Dumbledore said pleasantly as he strode towards the High Table. "Do take a seat."

Seeing the students look around in confusion, he gestured towards the seats of the High Table. Feeling more than a little awkward, the students took seats behind the table, looking down at Dumbledore uncomfortably.

"What's up with Neville?" Ron muttered, as Neville turned towards Dumbledore, a pleading look on his face. A half-smile chanced Dumbledore's face and he gave Neville a reassuring pat as he pointed him towards the High Table. Disappointment flushing into his face, Neville clambered up the platform onto the High Table, and took the only available seat left - the Headmaster's chair.

Neville's face reddened as he sat down to the accompaniment of raised eyebrows and a few unsuppressed smiles, but Harry did not notice. He was staring hard at Dumbledore. He recognised that look. It was the same one he had given Harry at the end of the fifth year. That exact same expression of bleak sorrow that came with the burden of knowledge.

However, he didn't have any more time to contemplate this new development, for Dumbledore was already speaking.

"Well, then, I'm sure all of you are impatient to hear the results of your allocations, so I shall not delay any further," Dumbledore cleared his throat and unrolled the parchment he had been carrying. "Terry Boot will be working in Dervish and Banges, under Mr. Dervish."

Terry Boot, sitting at one side of the table beside Malfoy, nodded his acknowledgement.

"The placements for Honeydukes Sweetshop are Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all sank back into their seats, gloom settling onto them. They were so distracted they almost missed Dumbledore saying that they would be working under a Mrs Chary.

"So Malfoy was right after all," Ron muttered. "I thought you said he was lying?" He shot a venomous glare at Hermione. "Now, if I'm lucky I'll get into _Madam Puddifoot's_." He shuddered. Harry couldn't resist doing the same.

"I really did think he was just bluffing," Hermione bit her lip. "Anyway I had to break his control over us, or we would have played right into his hands.

"About what?" Harry asked, peeking over Ron at Hermione, who was staring abjectly at a point on the table and frowning.

"I don't know," Hermione said irritably, not looking at Harry. "That's what I'm trying to work out. And what's wrong with Madam Puddifoot's? The place is cute."

Ron look as though Hermione had sprouted about ten million spiders in her hair. "Excuse me?" he squeaked disbelievingly. "Even _you_ have been pulled over by the Dark Side?"

Hermione shot him a disgruntled look. "It is generally advisable to use less clichéd phrases when attempting a tone of melodrama. And no, I have not sprouted about ten million spiders in my hair."

"Hey, that was just what I was thinking!"

Hermione looked like she would dearly love to whack Ron's head into the table.

"Madam Puddifoot's, under Madam Puddifoot."

"What? Who got in?" Ron asked in interest, having missed most of what Dumbledore said.

"It appears," Harry said carefully, an unnaturally strained expression on his face. "That you have placed in Madam Puddifoot's."

"Pardon?" Ron said in a strangled voice. It was amazing, Harry thought bemusedly, how many shades of colour Ron could turn. He had already worked his way through plum purple and puce green, and seemed to striving towards an ashen white tone.

Finding it hard to control his twitching mouth, Harry glanced over at Hermione, who was blinking very hard, her mouth set in an unnaturally straight line. She appeared slightly too interested in Dumbledore, who had just announced that Padma Patil and Neville Longbottom were working under Madam Rosmerta at The Three Broomsticks.

"The fates are against me," Ron moaned, his face thudding onto the table.

"Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones will be working in Zonko's joke shop under the guidance of Mr Zonko," Dumbledore rolled up the parchment again. "Working hours are from nine to four on weekdays only, with a one hour break for lunch at noon. You will eat breakfast at the High Table every morning and assemble at half past eight in the morning, where you will walk together to Hogsmeade under the supervision of Professor Snape ("My day looks bright again," Ron's muffled voice came from the table) and gather outside The Three Broomsticks by four fifteen sharp in the afternoon where Professor Snape will escort you back.

"The Work Experience Programme will commence tomorrow, Monday and will last till Christmas eve next Thursday on the 24th. You will be required to return the next morning, yes, Christmas Day, at nine in the morning for a short hour debrief by your mentors. The Feast begins at noon, so you will be able to make it if you wish to attend, and I most certainly hope you will."

Dumbledore smiled benevolently at them. "That is all. I wish every one of you a fulfilling experience."

Dumbledore turned and strode out of the Great Hall. There was a shuffling and scraping of chairs as everyone stood up to make their way out of the hall. Neville clambered awkwardly out of his heavy oak chair and sped after Dumbledore.

"I feel so _happy_," Ron muttered, his face still plastered to the table.

  
When dinner rolled around, Ron was still lamenting his tragic, wretched, and calamitous fate.

"I got into Madam Puddifoot's," Ron wailed to Harry and Hermione, as they dug into their beef stew.

"We _know_," Hermione said tersely. A muscle was twitching in her jaw.

"I got into Madam Puddifoot's!"

"We _know_," Harry said tiredly.

"I got into Madam Puddifoot's!"

"Congratulations," Hermione snapped.

"How did I get into Madam Puddifoot's?" Ron said, changing tack

"Maybe if you did better in your studies," Hermione replied promptly.

Ron coloured, quickly steering the conversation to another topic.

"Frilled balaclavas," he said firmly.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Hermione asked.

"I'll bet Madam Puddifoot makes her employees wear frilled balaclavas," Ron elaborated.

Harry and Hermione blinked.

"Ron, no one wears balaclavas indoors," Hermione said.

"Madam Puddifoot does," Ron said with conviction.

Harry and Hermione exchanged very much raised eyebrows.

"Er Ron," Harry tried. "When I went, you know, the waitress I saw was just wearing a standard Madam Puddifoot uniform. Without frilled balaclavas."

"Aha! Then the waiters wear frilled balaclavas!" Ron said triumphantly.

"No, they _do not_," Hermione said exasperatedly.

"At least you don't have to suffer Malfoy," Harry said, starting to feel irritated. He didn't understanding why Ron kept moaning, when neither he nor Hermione were making any noise about having to work with Malfoy. With any luck, Malfoy would just keep his distance, like he had been doing since the start of the school year, but looking at this morning, Harry thought it unlikely. It would take a lot of his self-control not to mutilate Malfoy if he started goading him about Sirius, Harry thought, a flicker of rage lighting his throat at the thought of Malfoy's words. Sure, Madam Puddifoot's was pretty scary, but it wasn't as bad as Malfoy at his worst, Harry was sure. 

"Yo! Wassup, ya'll?" Ginny had slid onto the bench beside Ron, and was grinning unperturbedly at them.

"What?" Ron said, momentarily distracted from his melancholy.

"Nothin', bub." Ginny said brightly. Harry, Ron and Hermione stared.

"Are you sure you're sane?" Ron asked, trying to feel her forehead.

"Are you sure you're asking the right person?" Hermione muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Harry tried to keep his face straight.

"Aw, gee bro, don' go all sistah on meh," Ginny scoffed, waving away Ron's hand.

"I think she's been affected by me," said a serious voice from behind Ron.

Harry, Ron and Hermione jumped. They had been so involved with Ginny's peculiarity they had failed to notice Luna hovering behind her. She now moved and sat down beside Ginny.

"You know what?" Ron said. "For once I agree with you."

Luna nodded gravely. "I agree with myself too."

Everyone tried to look as though people regularly told the world they agreed with themselves, except for Ginny of course, who giggled unrestrainedly.

"Ah sho agreh, ye knaw," Ginny said.

Ron shook his head resignedly. "Where have you been the entire day?" he asked suspiciously. "You weren't in the Hall for breakfast either."

"Ask not, hear not," Ginny said virtuously.

"As quoted by Quinapulus," Luna added.

The muscle in Hermione's jaw began twitching again. If there was one thing Hermione couldn't stand, Harry thought, it probably would be false information.

"So, did you get your Career Commitment placements today?" Ginny enquired, having finally reverted back to Standard English.

Ron's face dipped back into the land of lachrymose.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked in concern.

"He was received into Devils and Bangles," Luna said wisely. "It is a tough place to work."

Hermione's hands started twitching too.

"Er no, not actually," Harry said. "Hermione and I got into Honeydukes, but Ron got into -"

"Madam Puddifoot's!" Ron ended mournfully.

"What's wrong with that?" Ginny said in surprise. "The place's cute."

Harry hastily removed Ron's bowl of stew from harm's way as Ron's face thudded onto the table.

"Cute!" Ron said almost hysterically. "She said the place is cute!"

"Neville!" Hermione called, seeing the boy enter the Hall. She looked extremely relieved at the appearance of someone in any measure saner than Ron. "Come over and eat!"

Neville shook his head and took a few rolls from the platter on the table.

"Aren't you eating anything else?" Harry asked in surprise.

Neville dropped a roll onto the table. "No," he said, his voice sounding tight. Without looking at them, he turned and ran out of the Hall.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry turned to the others, a quizzical expression on his face.

"Dunno," Ginny said.

"You know, Hermione said thoughtfully. "He's another one who's been acting unusual this year."

"He has?" Ron said in surprise, having lifted his head off the table.

"Well, seeing as how your skin is as thick as elephant hide, you wouldn't notice," Hermione said waspishly.

"Hey! My skin is a lot smoother than that!"

Hermione looked like she was having trouble controlling herself.

"Go on," Harry suggested.

"Well, he's seemed pretty down in the dumps ever since school started, and you wouldn't believe how many times I've seen him in the library!"

"Maybe he's cramming for NEWTs?" Harry suggested.

Hermione looked highly dubious. "I believe I'm the only one in our year who has actually started preparing," she said in a sniffy voice.

"Hermione!" Ron sounded shocked. "NEWTs is more than a year away!"

"I think I just made my point," Hermione said. "Anyway, he can't be studying. I saw him looking in the _Divination_ section. No one actually studies that."

"Maybe they do?" Harry said.

"Yeah, just 'cause you're prejudiced," Ron piped up.

"Please," Hermione said, waving her hand dismissively. "Neville would have at least looked in the Herbology section right?"

Harry couldn't deny the truth of that statement.

"You know," Ginny said suddenly. "I think you're right. I noticed he's been avoiding everyone recently."

"Come to think of it, yeah," Harry said thoughtfully. "I never really see him around in the common room. And the last time I spoke to him must have been quite a while ago."

"Gee, is everyone acting weird?" Ron said grumpily.

"Speak for yourself," Hermione retorted.

"Hey well, _I'm_ going to suffer two weeks of Madam Puddifoot's with frilled balaclavas!" Ron proclaimed sombrely.

Even Luna looked somewhat amazed.

"Don't. Ask." Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"What about frilled balaclavas?"

"I already said not to -" Hermione began, then stopped as she realised that the voice didn't belong to anyone at the table.

"Do you have a _problem_, Malfoy?" Hermione railed, turning around to see Malfoy behind her, looking supremely unconcerned that Hermione was baring her teeth at him, looking positively unhinged. It appeared that the insanity radiating from the members of the table had proved too much for her.

"None whatsoever, though it seems like you might," Malfoy replied. "I just thought you wouldn't mind some help. Weasley, you'd like to get out of Madam Puddifoot's, wouldn't you?"

"Why?" Ron asked suspiciously, but he looked interested nonetheless.

"I believe you're allowed to swap places with others as long as they consent," Malfoy said in a non-committal manner.

"Really?" Ron looked as though Christmas had come early. In fact, he looked as if Easter, Halloween, Hanukkah, Vesak, hell, even Senior Citizen's Day had come early. Harry listened thoughtfully. Maybe he and Ron should change places, Harry wondered, since each thought they had come off with the worst deal. 

"Don't listen to him," Hermione said sharply. She was glaring at Malfoy with eyes narrowed, a distinctly shrewish expression on her face. "You've got some plan to get us in trouble right?"

"What makes you say that?" Malfoy looked mildly hurt.

"Do you ever do anything else to us?" Hermione retorted.

"That was in ages past," Malfoy said dismissively. "Now I'm a bettered man."

Harry, Ron and Ginny gave derisive snorts of laughter. Luna smiled vaguely and said, "I'm sure that was a joke."

Hermione just glared piercingly at Malfoy, as if trying to read the meaning behind his shuttered eyes.

Malfoy shrugged and began strolling away. "Just in case you were interested," he said over his shoulder.

"Did you hear him?" Ron chortled. "'Now I'm a bettered man'!" he mimicked Malfoy's voice in a falsetto, and Ginny started giggling again. "Who's he kidding?"

"But that wasn't his point," Hermione muttered, still staring after the door through which Malfoy had exited.

"Huh?" Harry asked distractedly, watching Ron attempt to pull an exaggerated expression of Malfoy's hurt expression.

"Nothing," Hermione said, turning back to her goulash. "I was just thinking, that's all."

_  
"Sorry? That is a term weaklings use to excuse themselves from their responsibilities. You had shown yourself to be of exemplary capability over the summer, and I believed I could entrust this vital task to you. It appears I was wrong, however. I am sorely disappointed in you."_

_"Master, this is just a temporary setback we had not foreseen. Give me some time, and I will resolve the problem. Do not worry, I will not fail you again."_

_"Very well. I cannot afford to waste much more time. Report back to me within a week with news of your success, or prepare to face the consequences."_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

---  
"Bub" is borrowed off Logan from X-Men Evolution (though I think he uses it in the original X-Men too)

"Quinapulus" is the bogus name of a supposedly quote-worthy person from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.  
---

Yay! I managed to update just in time to meet my two-week deadline. ^_^ The next chapter should also come out in two weeks or soI just need to get it to beta-ing. I may move faster if I get more reviews. *hint* So, do **review**! Also, if anyone can recommend any nice D/Hr tragedies, I would be much grateful.

**&SnoOza**  



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